


Forget Me Not

by sassbuttcasbutt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Anal Sex, Angst, Croatoans, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Memory Loss, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassbuttcasbutt/pseuds/sassbuttcasbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can Dean deal with Castiel losing his memory when he is all he as left in this world?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back To Basics

**Author's Note:**

> Another story!? shocker I know but this one has been collecting dust in my google docs and I just decided to finish it!

**Chapter1- Back To Basics**

* * *

 

 

The day had been utterly exhausting and the blood crusted on Dean’s jaw only made him want to find a new safe house that much  faster. Castiel followed closely behind; practically on his heels. They knew how to move in this new world, how to fight and when to run. They were more active at night, the Croats liked it when it wasn't so hot out and shelter was not as abundant since almost everything had been burned to ash and Croats were smart and kept close to buildings. They may be bloodthirsty killers, but they held some sort of human common sense that shelter equaled people. The Croats held little interest in animals so hunting was their main source of food. Their last safe house had been compromised about a week ago and they lost the small Spanish family who didn't speak a lick of English. It was a mom and her two daughters. Castiel could still speak many languages but infinite knowledge doesn't fit in a human mind and slowly Castiel was forgetting things. When they were overrun their instincts switch to saving each other and the small family fell out of their vision before anything could be done.

"I've got eyes," Dean whispered making a quick hand gesture at his face. Castiel gave a nod. Speaking was left mostly for the safe house and hand signals were essential in this new world in the two years of the outbreak they had practically made up their own language.

"How far?" Cas whispered, his voice ragged from lack of use.

"Few blocks, windows are sealed and no sign of Croats." That didn't mean much, bastards were fast as hell. Castiel drew his gun from his thigh holster and wiped a sweaty hand on his dirt covered flannel. He pushed his shaggy black hair back and focused his mind. Keep your eyes on Dean. Follow his steps and watch his back.

Intense moments like this they tried to silence their steps to hears their surroundings better. Completely attuned to the other they knew what their job was. Keep the other safe.

They hugged a brick wall that was partially destroyed and Dean peered his head around the corner. Castiel kept his eyes trained behind them until he felt three taps on his shoulder. Move out.

They moved quickly across the open road, crouching behind cars and ducking into buildings. Their target was the two-story storefront. It had a dumpster under one of the windows for an escape and was border up nicely with an iron fire door covering the back.

"Your move," Cas spoke closely to Dean’s ear pulling a shiver down his spine. No, they don't do that out of the safe house. They can't get distracted out here.

Giving a nod Dean patted his left side twice times.  Watch his flanks and follow after three seconds. Dean stepped out into the open and turned the corner. Castiel counted his heart beat.

One. Dean’s jaw clenched.

Two. His finger lightly pressed the trigger.

Three. Blood curl shrieking.

   That’s what those bastards did, scream once they saw you. It wasn’t very sneaky, but it sure did scare the hell out of anyone in earshot. It was like a button was pressed and both their instincts were triggered. Cas ran out from behind the building to Dean and they walked back to back as they assessed the situation, guns were drawn and fingers on the trigger.

   “See anything?” Cas turned to press his shoulder to Dean’s, watching each others backs. They didn’t see any Croats, but that doesn’t mean jack, the Croats have seen them and that’s the problem.

   “Move around back, we can’t lead them to the house.” Castiel nodded and they moved to duck behind and old drug store that had been cleared out long ago. Castiel was still facing backwards so it took a bubbling growl from behind him and a quick elbow to the ribs to let him know it was time to fight. Castiel enjoyed evading over killing, but Dean sometimes found himself bloodthirsty and even looked for them at one point. But who could blame him, he hasn’t been the same since they lost Sam to a hired in Detroit. It took three days to get Dean to move and for a few months all he did was kill. Slowly he started to come back but not much, the threat of losing each other is what keeps them fighting.

   Cas knew he wouldn’t last long in this world without Dean and it became a lot harder when they lost Sam. Castiel was forgetting things, losing his memories. One day when they were up in Canada he was able to speak fluent French and land them a safe house for the night, but within a few days every word but hello has escaped him. Dean hid his worry over Castiel’s problem, but he knew it worsened with every week. At the moment, he was only forgetting that vast unattainable knowledge of an angel, his past, heaven, hell, but it wasn’t much longer until the second shoe dropped and he forgot Dean all together.

   They had a scare a few weeks back on a food run, Cas hit his head on a shelf when he was cornered by Croats. He didn’t pass out but once they got back to the safe house he fell asleep and when he woke up he didn’t recognise Dean. It was only a short spell, but Dean feared how many more days they had before he was a stranger to him.

   “Cas, there is only a few. No guns get your knife and we will go around back to the building”

   Being quiet was key in this new world and as Dean as Cas drew their machetes from their belts they stalked after the Croats that were making a slow approach towards them. It wouldn’t last long and a few beats later the two infected were fully sprinting, shattered glass clutched tightly in their bloody hands ready to dig into skin and infect others.

   “I got left you get right,” Cas whispered before they shot off. Thankfully they didn’t evolve like in zombie movies and a good old decapitation brought them down. It was still tricky when they had to avoid the glass shard and long nails, but they always managed to get the job done and move on.

   Their bodies dropped with a thump and Cas tried scrubbing his hands in the grass to scrape off the blood. Next task, getting into the safe house.

   “Follow me, we go fast and quiet it’s going to get dark real soon and we can’t get caught in the crossfires. We are already pushing out none existent luck.”

   Dean wasn’t an optimist, not since Sam died, but he was still smart and skilled in hand to hand combat. Castiel would follow him to the ends of the earth.

   “You know we lost all our supplies, and all the food we manage to save is gone. We’ll have to go for a run tomorrow.” Castiel was in charge of supplies and he arranged runs.

   “At the moment, I just want to get your ass in that building.” Even at the end of the world Dean still refused PDA, even if the only people watching don’t have the brain capacity to comprehend a kiss.

   “As long as you’re there I’ll always follow.” That never stopped Cas from being the ‘romantic’ one in the relationship, if anyone had told him this eight years ago he would have laughed in their face. Now he fills his nights clinging to his last anchor to earth and pressing skin on dirty skin. The only fighting they do is over dominance, and even on the coldest nights they strip down just to try and become one.

“We just have to make it across the street, the building looks completely intact. I’ll cover you as you rip the boards off the door, Do you have anything in your pack?” Dean was pecking his head around a building as he talked. Castiel removed his bag and dug through, it was mostly filled with tools and thankfully he pulled out a small crowbar.

“Babe I didn’t want to say I told you so, but I totally told you so.” Dean looked back at Cas and rolled his eyes at the dark haired man dangling the rusted tool.

“Okay so that came in handy, hope you’re good with pulling out nails.” Dean smile and nodded his head in the direction of the store. Castiel did up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, crowbar tight in his dirty fist.

“Just like we normally do, follow after three.” Dean was already walking away before he finished talking and Castiel took his place, crouching and watching every dark corner near Dean fearing what could come plowing out.

One. Dean tightens his shoulders.

Two. Dean draws up his gun.

Three. Trigger is pulled and a shot is fired into the alley next to the house.

Now or never, Cas shot out from his space his weapon was the crowbar.

“Like I said, I’ll cover you, just get that door open!” Dean barked as he blew a hole into a small blond man. Cornering themselves was never a good idea but they didn’t have much going for them so at least one side was protected. The buildings were built in chains, three connected and then an ally. The store sat on a corner so Dean set up his defence only a few paces away from Castiel who was making fast work of the door.

One shot, it was 2014.

Two shots, crowbar beats nail.

Three shots, where was Sam?

Finally, he ripped the last board off the door and he whistled at Dean to move back. Dean ran in bumping Cas in the shoulder. Castiel scanned the street again.

Three dead.

Two men.

One woman.

No Sam.

“What the hell are you doing shut the door!” Dean slammed the door almost clipping Castiel’s nose.

“No, wait, Sam isn’t in yet!” Castiel called trying to pull open the door. Dean’s arm went still and his body rigid.

“What?” It was hardly a whisper.

“S-sam…” Castiel was starting to confuse himself, he could have sworn Sam had gone on this run with them.

“Cas, baby no.” Dean cradled Castiel’s face, his scruff tickling his callused palm. ”No, Sam's gone Cas, it’s been over a year. Are, are you okay?” Panic was laced in Dean’s voice, forgetting was never a good sign and Dean would fall off the edge if Cas became a blank man following his shadow.

“No he, he was here wasn’t he? I-” But Cas couldn’t finish his sentence. The growling had stopped from outside  and Dean took the opportunity to place a soft kiss on the corner of Castiel’s lips.

“Come on, you need rest.” Dean wrapped his arm around the confused mans shoulder and lead him up the steps to the small apartment. Looked like the residents left once the outbreak hit. The place actually had order to it, probably the first place that didn’t look like the inside of a dumpster.

“Remember, try and count. Give me three facts.” It was something Dean had taught Cas back when he started forgetting. Count to three and with each number state a face or memory. It brings Cas back to reality, mostly.

They made their way across the small living room and down the cramped hallway towards the bedroom.

“My name is Castiel.” Castiel looked around the room, floral wallpaper and a bright green bedspread. “I am right-handed.” Dean nodded encouragingly as he sat down on the side of the bed. “And I’m losing my mind.”

Dean’s throat tightened, and Cas was slumped forward studying his dirt covered hands. Dean wasn’t a talker, he wasn’t Sam, he wasn’t some poetic romantic, but Dean knew a way to express himself without a word.

Leaning forward he kissed Castiel pulse point, his skin was warm and salty. He smelt like grass and pine. Making a trail up his neck and onto his jaw, the scruff tickling his nose. Raising his hand to turn Castiel head towards his lips to catch his mouth. Castiel lazily kissed back, winding his hands in Dean’s lap. It was a slow twist and curl of limbs, burrowing into themselves and shedding layer by layer. Not a word passed between the two and the silence of the room was all the message Castiel needed.

Dean’s breath was hot, hands rough, and skin smooth. They saved this for special nights, nights they knew they could take time pulling each other apart and building once again. Castiel was pressed on his back, Dean’s arms acting as a protective cage and his lips were curious explorers. Finding every dip, scar, and freckle on Castiel’s body. Dean was memorising Castiel as if he feared he would forget him. When in reality Dean could never forget the man, his dark scruff and sun-kissed skin, the dimples above the swell of his ass and the small trial of dark hair leading down his boxers.

Castiel was a work of art in Dean’s eyes, it pained him to think of a day when Castiel looked at him like he was a stranger. Dean buried his head in the crook of Castiel’s neck, drinking in him smell and nipping at his skin. Castiel arched his back and welcomed the attention. Castiel treasured these nights when the darkness wrapped them and his nerves were on fire from the friction of skin between the men.

Dean was buried deep in Castiel, each pull evoked a moan that pushed through the weak walls that sheltered them. They both felt their bodies tighten like cogs winding in their stomach as their movments became sporadic. It was with heated thrusts and fumbling hands that Castiel came. Dean following behind only a few thrusts later.

Their chest heaved as they pushed their foreheads together. They cover each other in cum that stuck to their stomach. They were in a stranger's bed in a no named town but wound in each other's arms it was all forgotten. The air in the room was thick with heat and they were falling back from their highs. They had so few nights like this. So Castiel swore to never forget them.

"One, my name is Castiel" Dean lifted his head to look at Castiel whose eyes were locked. "Two, I am right handed." Pausing Castiel took in a breath and turned towards Dean. "Three, I am in love with Dean Winchester. "

Dean gave a half smile and kissed his cheek, burrowing deeper into the strangers sheets seeking warmth.

“Knew you were always the romantic one.” Dean was hardly an openly affectionate person and even in confidence he seemed to lack the loving words Castiel tried to hold back. Castiel knew it wasn’t that Dean didn’t love him as much, but he has emotional stigma and never really learned expression. Not that Castiel was great in that department, but he was better off than Dean.

They sat in silence for over an hour, tracing skin and humming tunes that long left the earth. It was the only ounce of peace they had left in their worlds. Dean knew the day was coming. When Castiel would forget how many freckles he counted on his skin, or how Dean’s lips tasted. He just hoped he could get as much time as possible. Dean would fight for his memory and somehow they would fix it.

 


	2. I'm No Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is another -short- chapter

**Chapter 2- I’m No Angel**

* * *

 

The Morning sun spilled through the cracks in the boarded-up windows and Dean found himself alone in bed.

“Cas?” Dean called in his cracking sleep voice. Dean wasn’t used to waking up alone, but then again they hadn’t had a house in a while and Castiel could be exploring. “Cas?” Dean called a bit louder slipping his jeans over his boxers and pocketing his knife. They cleared the house, but you don’t take chances by leaving yourself unarmed. Even in your own safe house. The apartment was small and there wasn’t really any layout to memorize, but Dean stayed on edge and hugged every corner.

Dean crept down the hallway that creaked louder than he would have liked. If any Croats were downstairs in the store area they would probably hear him. Dean heard a pan drop from the kitchen a hurried his pace.

“Cas what the hell.”

“Oh, you're up.” Castiel turned around to look at dean. He was completely dressed in his dirt and blood crusted clothes. They needed a supply run because they had no food on them. They also had to do their monthly clothing change and find a place to swap out their few outfits. Dean made a mental note to check the closest

It was never really a monthly thing, when they had their main camp before it was overrun then they had the luxury of keeping track of weeks, and months, and years. Now they lived by 24-hour cycles. So once their clothing smelt too much of corpses and less of man was when they would swap out. Dean had a brown leather jacket he became attached to but other than that everything went. By the looks and smells of both of them their month had passed.

“I found a can of beans for you.” Castiel held up the heavily dented can. Dean’s stomach growled at the sight of it. They really hadn’t had much-canned food. They started relying on the land a few months ago. When food runs out you need to find another way to eat. They chose to get good at that skill before it was their only source of food. Those generic brand beans looked mouth watering. He could probably open the can with his teeth. But then Dean caught something in Castiel’s sentence a can of beans for you?

“We can split it.” Castiel looked at Dean with a quizzical expression.

“Why would we do that? I don’t need food, that would just be a waste.” Dean tensed up, he forgot. He had forgotten again, this time he forgot he was no longer an angel. That has only happened once before and when Dean broke it to him he had a solid three days of silence. Dean lived in a silent world already and couldn’t stand going so long without the sound of Castiel’s voice. Who knows maybe this time he will be okay, or freak out even worse and run.

“Cas, did you forget again?” Dean slowly approached him and held out his hand. Castiel’s brow creased. Tread carefully and be supportive. Two things Dean wasn’t a hundred percent on in the emotional department.

“Forget what?” It was getting worse and Dean knew this was one of the hardest things to tell him. He almost wished he could lie to him, but he knew the demands of a human body would blow it sooner or later. Dean just wanted to give him some kind of peace in this living hell.

“You’re human Cas, you are forgetting things again.” Castiel’s eyes widened, but it seemed like things were clicking in his mind. “It’s been a while. All the angels are gone. They checked out once Lucifer brought back the Croats.” Castiel seemed to be looking through Dean, his fists clenched into tight balls and his legs shaking. All Dean could think was please don’t run.

“You’re wrong.” Castiel spit, but deep down he knew something was off, his powers his everything. The weight of his wings was missing. “I’ll prove it to you.” With that Castiel took three large strides and placed two fingers on Dean’s forehead.

“We aren't going anywhere. I told you, heaven is unplugged.” Castiel looked horrified and pulled his hand back to look down at it.

“How-how long?” His voice was cracked and Dean felt a tug in his stomach from his pain.

“I don’t really know. Took you a few months to fully lose your powers. Maybe a year and a half. Keeping track of time isn’t really the most important thing nowadays.” It was silent for a few moments.

“And I’m forgetting?” Castiel’s voice was so small. “How often?” Castiel’s eyes locked with Dean’s.

“It’s not getting better.” Dean shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “Usually happens after stressful runs or if you get hurt.” Dean let out a sigh, “Other times it is completely random.”

“This shouldn’t be happening.” Cas looked down at his feet. “I mean yeah maybe some things would slip my mind after falling but not this badly.”

“You could be like Anna,” Dean suggested “And she got her memories back.”

“We would need my grace.”

“I know…” Dean took in a long breath, “We’ve talked about this before. It could be anywhere.”

“So, what do we do?” Castiel asked trying to collect himself.

“What we always do.” Dean pulled out the knife from his pants and handed it to Cas. “Grab all that is useful and hit the road.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it! I am planning out the story as I write it so feedback is always super motivational and helpful. Tell me where you think this is going!!!

**Author's Note:**

> So question, should this be a multichapter fic or should I leave it at this?


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